


The Afterdrift Terrors

by Futsin



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Brothers in Science, Can't Sleep Kaiju Will Eat Me, Comfort, Friendship, Kaiju, Monsters, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23373421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Futsin/pseuds/Futsin
Summary: Months after the apocalypse is cancelled, Newt and Hermann struggle with something only those who've drifted with a kaiju can know and only your science bro going in can understand.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Afterdrift Terrors

The facility at night was barely different from the facility at day, the only main clue being which faces you’d see on shift. It was how Newton Geiszler was able to tell it was night, instead of day. He’d gotten up from a rather terrible nightmare, of that pit beyond The Breach, of the things becoming aware while still having muscle and skin threaded onto their bodies, and he couldn’t stop shaking from the echoes of memory. He needed to reach out and talk to someone. He’d used the comm system to try and tell Hermann about his weird dream, but received no response. Again, something about that didn’t sit right. He waited, drawing lines on his tattoos, until he couldn’t sit still anymore. He got out of bed in his Gargantua pajamas, and then went looking _._

First, he tried the mess hall, to see if Hermann had needed a little chamomile to get to sleep. But, it was decidedly empty. No one had seen him.

Next, Newton went to the Shatterdome, wondering if his colleague was going to count dents and figure out patterns of damage on one of the jaegers to lull him to slumber. Again, he wasn’t found. But one deckhand mentioned hearing his muttering down the hall somewhere on her way to the dome.

With the last place he looked being obviously the first place he should have, Newton finally made his way to the research lab. When the door opened, he found it dark save for the blue glow of the holo-terminal. Deep shadows gave way to the sudden bright light of the beams projecting imagery, which illumined Doctor Hermann Gottlieb sitting in front of the system.

That’s how Newton found him at last, the crusty chap now clad also in pajamas (a more conservative variety), staring intently and muttering to himself incessantly while he input data. Mathematical equations as always, but now it was something different. It was evidently different. Newton called out to him, “Hermann! I’ve been looking all over for you!” But, as before, there was no response, and the troubling sensation in Newton’s gut started. He hurried forward, finally catching the words coming out of his lab buddy.

“Layers, symmetrical, like the work of a sword – metal – metal – they engineer, yes, yes.” The roll of equation continued, taking a moment for Newton to recognize it. Hermann was jotting down in mathematical understanding the process of creating a kaiju’s body. It looked specifically like the one whose half-born child they had drifted into, Otachi. He was almost to describing the wings, and would have it done in seconds if he didn’t stop. “Hey. Hermann.” Newton put his hand on his companion’s shoulder, getting a sudden brushing off and a half-hiss/half-grumble noise in return. “C’mon, man, slow down a second-“

A wave of heated anger and near-spittle spun at Newton when Hermann turned, eyes wide and bloodshot, and he shouted, “DAMMIT, NEWTON, I’M TRYING TO WORK!” Newt reeled back. In that face silhouetted by the glow and barely illuminated, he could see the emotion behind the gaze. Fear. Terror. Wanting to understand, but struggling at every turn, desperate to cling to a certainty. 

And Gottlieb was back at the system, bright screen silhouetting his form, his fingers a forever-tsunami on the keys. He was through to the wings now, the membranes described in numbers and sequences, their flexibility range brought down to ratios to describe range of movement. Each click and he felt the jitters come worse now. Geiszler, that fool, was interrupting him like this. He had to write it down. The memory was slipping now. Could not fail. Couldn’t. Never. No. No! No no no!

Suddenly there was the hand again, on his arm. “Hermann, please,” he pled. But still the man sent wild by fear of thought and abundance of knowledge, continued. Ranting and hissing, spouting out things he typed. Thought and feeling tumbling together like a mess of words. Quiet cacophony, building into a typhoon of energy and emotion, which Newton could see getting worse; feeling the shaking tremor of running exhaustion beneath. This couldn’t keep on. He put his other hand on Hermann’s wrist. Motion beneath ceased and the stream of data came to a halt. And then the dam broke and tears came down. “It’s okay,” was said. “Nononono,” was muttered. Newt felt his companion’s body shaking with heavy sobs, then put his arm around the man. Like a parent, a brother, a friend; Newton hugged him. And at once, Hermann tried to hug back, falling out of the chair and the two hitting the floor like a pair of awkward children.

Hermann was still muttering through the sobs. About what they’d seen and could never forget. A world beyond ours that was at once magnificent and horrifying. Full of terrors and monsters, which only at the edge of failure had mankind pushed them back and sealed the door. Newton listened, occasionally putting a hand on his hair, trying to help Hermann recall a memory when his father held him when he was sick. “Everything’s all right, Herm. You just had a bad dream. Remember what Raleigh said, this is just part of what happens after your first drift. It’s okay.” Newton kept his voice calm, which had gotten easier now that the war, for now, was over. Despite his own panic and usual frenzy of thought, he stayed still as he could. “I had to write it down,” Hermann nearly cried, “I had to get all it down, all the things. Too much to remember, I don’t want to remember!” Newton squeezed tighter. “You don’t have to, man! I got your back. We got this. Come on. Ease up. Let it go.” And deeply he breathed, hoping the man in his arms who’d been pulled by horrors beyond perceived reality would follow suit. After a few breaths, he did. And they calmed down.

The world cooled and he perceived the moment. Glow falling off into shadows, the pair of them on cold metal floor. Humming machinery off distantly moving. Yet, gaining, for once, a moment of relief from the scary things that plagued his mind. Silly, part of him said. Necessary, another part shouted. At last, he caught his breath to speak again. “How are we going to tell them?” Hermann asked in the darkness, “How do I tell my wife, my children, what I’ve seen? How do I assure them of their safety in the world, when such things are _out there?_ ” Newton sighed heavy, unhappy there was only the absence of an answer. He couldn’t think of anything concrete enough that would be acceptable. But he tried, all the same.

“I don’t know if you’ll accept this, but… you know, we do what we do. We research and help everybody understand. Do the best we can. And everyone prepares for the next time, whenever that comes.”  
“We’ll never be ready,” he interrupted, “We never are.”  
“Then, when it happens, we’ll science our way out of it like always.”

The words felt swell and the parts of Hermann Gottlieb that screamed _bad English_ , gave way to their warmth. They’d done something incredible, and the numbers were just good enough to say they could be incredible again. Someone once told him, “Great men do great things.” Or maybe it was one of Newt’s memories growing up. Sometimes it was hard to tell. 

“Fine. Yes, that… that works just fine. We’ll… perform great feats once more.”  
“When called.”  
“Yes, when opportunity knocks.”

They waited a while in the dark before Hermann patted his tattooed comrade on the arm. “Dreadfully sorry about this.” Newton responded with a ruffle of his hair. “No worries. You know, I always wanted a brother.” A bit more misty-eyed than he expected, Hermann patted him again.  
“I know, Newton. I know.”  
“Just, uh… if I ever freak out like this after a nightmare, you’ll do the same, right?”  
He had memories of warm parenting and could use a hug, too; the unsaid words that Hermann knew from a shared dream.  
“Of course, old chap. Fetch me my walking stick?” Newton used a foot to stretch out and pull/kick the cane towards them, allowing Hermann to pull away and stand up. The two got to their feet and dusted themselves of the floor’s dirt. “Good thing we didn’t fall on my side of the lab.”

The screen still glowed when Gottlieb got back to it. He stared at the information, then hit the save command. “I’ll… see what I can do with this later. Pointless to work on it now.” He turned to Geiszler. “For goodness sake, what _are_ those things on your pajamas?” With a frown, Newton looked down, then back up. “Hey, you know what these are. It was my favorite movie when I was five.” Hermann, falling back into himself, rolled his eyes. “I thought _Jaws_ was your favorite film.”  
“Yeah, when I was eight and my dad introduced me to that. But before that-”  
“Whatever.” He remembered, just didn’t want to. Gargantuas. Always the groupie, he thought. Hermann Gottlieb hit the off button on the holo-terminal and its glow put them in darkness save the partway-open door. The two companions started back towards it. 

“What the devil were you doing up at this hour, anyway?”  
At the question, Newton couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, it’s funny. I had a bad dream, too.”


End file.
